


little love

by gigglesandfreckles



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: As it should be, Post Twilight of the Apprentice, Pre A New Hope, sadness but also HOPE, some more hologram heart-to-hearts for my favourite grand master/padawan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26574364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigglesandfreckles/pseuds/gigglesandfreckles
Summary: Ahsoka sticks her nose into the wrong Alliance meeting and discovers a certain Jedi is alive and on Tatooine of all places, so she places a long-distance call.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 20
Kudos: 279





	little love

**Author's Note:**

> it's not necessary that you read hologram heart-to-hearts before this, but it would be helpful for context! I finished that story a couple days ago and this idea hit me tonight, so I simply had to get it down and out into the world. I needed some happiness for these two.

He pulled his hood up, lowering his head and baring himself for the certain assault he would face on the other side of the doors.

It was sandstorm season on Tatooine and Ben had never quite gotten used to that.

Mos Eisley was still as busy as ever, a myriad of species and pilots seeming to pop in and out every day. He tried to stay south of Anchorhead as much as possible, mostly because he just got annoyed by all the noise and excitement, his tolerance for that sort of thing not quite being what it used to be.

Even so, a trip for essentials every week was necessary and today was the day. He’d just finished grabbing several days worth of rations, the last of his errands in the spaceport. 

“Hey. Robe.” a gruff voice sounded in front of Ben, though he couldn’t see beyond the peripheral of his hood, his head bowed to prepare for the sand. 

“ _Robe._ ” the voice repeated. Ben looked up, then, taking in the large Devaronian stalking his way. 

He quirked an eyebrow in silent response.

“You Ben Kenobi?” the Devaronian demanded, stopping in front of him.

“Sometimes,” nodded Ben, not backing down from the horned-man’s stare.

The Devaronian snarled. “Follow me.”

And because his tolerance for noise was not the only thing that had lessened over the years, Ben followed the stranger, his curiosity finding victory over his cautiousness.

The Devaronian led the way out the door of the outpost into the dusty streets. Ben squinted to maintain visual, regretful of leaving his goggles behind today. They wound up the main street and around a corner, the Devaronian stopping in front of the Communications Hub.

“In there. Third door on the right.”

Ben looked at the Devaronian in surprise. “The Empire shut down the Comm. Hub last year.”

“The Empire isn’t paying what he’s paying,” came the growl of response.

“What _who’s_ paying?”

“Third door on the right,” the Devaronian shoved the older man toward the building. Ben closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of patience and reminding himself that the attention wasn’t worth the satisfaction of knocking this man out. 

Instead, he slowly walked toward the doors of the Comm. Hub, not surprised to see that the doors opened easily when he gave a gentle push. The Empire had stormed in last year and shut down several local businesses that violated whatever protocol they decided to invent on that day. The Communications Hub had been the first to go, off-planet communications being outlawed from Tatooine.

He walked on edge, hand naturally at his hip, though there was of course no lightsaber there. For the Devaronian to know his name, _someone_ had to have given it to him and Ben had had his fair share of scuffles with people on Tatooine in the past eighteen years. 

The third door loomed on his right. With his hood still up and his heart racing, he pushed open the door.

His bag of rations dropped to the ground.

The tiny room, designed for individual holo-calls, was cascaded in a blue haze that he hadn’t seen in years. The transmitter was still functioning, the only evidence of it’s abandonment being the slightly-more-than-normal static appearance.

The static did nothing to stop Ben from recognising what he was seeing.

“A--Ahsoka?” he croaked out, staring at the illuminated markings that had only ever represented _her_.

“Identity.” the deeply altered voice responded.

“Ben Kenobi,” he said quickly, pushing his hood back from his head. “O--Obi-Wan Kenobi.” The words fell out of his mouth like a sickness he’d forgotten he had. He could hear the desperation in his own voice, but didn’t care enough to do anything about it.

The transmission fizzled out and, for a moment, Ben thought it had disappeared altogether. Perhaps it had never been there at all, a mere hallucination of his deteriorating mind. 

But then it reappeared, taking the shape of someone he _almost_ recognised.

Immediately, he started to cry.

“Hi,” offered Ahsoka, her own lips trembling even as she offered a nervous smile.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes after that, both choosing to take in the virtual presence of the other because this was real, they were there, and they were _alive._

It was Obi-Wan who spoke first, pulling himself together. “How...how long do you have?” he managed, wiping his palms across his face. Enough tears, he didn’t want to _waste this_.

Her smile spread. “All the time. I...I told the others to...leave me alone,” she laughed breathily. “I have hours, Obi-Wan.”

So, he cried again. 

_Hours_. Even at the height of the Clone Wars, when they had seen each other in-person every few rotations, they’d rarely ever had _hours_.

“How?” he breathed. “I don’t understand. How.”

He wasn’t even sure what he was asking her to explain because there was _so much_. 

She blinked, rapidly, somehow keeping herself much more professional than he had. He blamed his rapidly ascending age for the emotional onslaught, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to feel any sort of shame over it. His Grand Padawan, his friend, his _Ahsoka_.

“It’s a long story,” she laughed a laugh he’d never heard before. It was deeper than the giggle he remembered. “But I’ll tell you. Everything.”

His chest hadn’t unclenched since he walked in the room. “How did you find me?”

She chewed on her lip at this, looking guilty. _That_ was a look he’d remember anywhere. “ _Well_ ,” she began. “I’m definitely getting in trouble later.”

Obi-Wan crossed his arms across his chest, so _happy_ to have another chance to mediate her recklessness. “This feels familiar.”

“I overheard Bail talking to a couple of our captains a few days ago about Tatooine.”

So she was still in contact with Bail. This both intrigued and relieved him.

_Bail was alive. Leia had a father._

And then there was the interesting phrasing of ‘our captains.’

“And so of course my ears perked up at that because…” she trailed off, a wrinkle Obi-Wan had never seen before appearing across her forehead. He nodded, not needing an explanation on that particular connection. “So I’ve been pressuring him for a few days to tell me what’s going on and he finally, _finally_ told me that you...that you _live there._ ”

He shrugged clumsily, unsure of what parts of his own story to include in this narrative.

“Obi-Wan, what are you _doing there?_ ” she implored. “All this time, I...I thought you were…”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I thought...I thought you were, too.”

“But you’re alive. I’m alive.” she seemed to be reassuring herself of this. “We’re _alive,_ Obi-Wan.”

He shook his head with a smile, still taking her in. 

It struck him suddenly that she must have been about the same age _he_ was when they had last seen each other. 

She stood taller and straighter than she used to, an air of regality and peace he’d never attributed to her before. It suited her.

“You’re different,” he said honestly, feeling every year of mystery that lay between them.

“I am,” she agreed, solemnly. “A lot’s changed.”

“When I got back from Utapau, after...everything. With the clones,” he felt himself involuntarily shudder as he was once again chased by the picture of Cody instructing the men to open fire on him so many years ago, “I...I tried to contact you, but your ship. The tracking system was completely down and when the 501st…” he cleared his throat, wondering how many men he would still recognise from the propagandised _Vader’s Fist_ if they were to remove their helmets. “I didn’t think there was a possibility.”

“My ship did go down,” nodded Ahsoka, a strange emotion twisting onto her face. “The clones, they...they tried to kill me.” She swallowed. “Rex saved me.” A fond smile. “Well, we saved each other.”

“Rex is alive?” asked Obi-Wan incredulously.

“Yes,” Ahsoka smiled fully now. “After Mandalore, we spent several months trying to figure things out, but he...he’s with--”

“Wait,” Obi-Wan held up a hand. “I think it’s best if I don’t know.”

Ahsoka waited for an explanation.

“If I’m ever captured by the Empire. It’s better for me to know nothing that could incriminate others.”

Ahsoka nodded. “That’s wise.” Then, her smile came back. “I’d say the same thing for you, but I know there’s no way in hell anything worth the Empire’s attention is happening on _Tatooine._ ” She laughed that same low laugh.

Obi-Wan didn’t respond.

“What are you even doing there anyway? We could...we could use your help, honestly. Bail and Mon Mothma--” she stopped abruptly, fixing him with a curious gaze. “What is it?”

He just watched her, silently.

“There’s a reason, isn’t there?” asked Ahsoka, though it was obvious she knew the answer.

He wanted to tell her everything. About Yoda on Dagobah and about his lessons with Qui-Gon. About all his close calls with the Empire over the years. About his new life of essential hermitude. 

About Luke.

“I knew it,” she nodded to herself. She rubbed at her chin thoughtfully and Obi-Wan wondered when she’d picked _that_ up. “It has something to do with Anakin, doesn’t it?”

Obi-Wan released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

She was too smart for her own good and that had _always_ been the case, but he couldn’t even be impressed by her deductions when thinking about his choice to stay on Tatooine.

Of course it had something to do with Anakin. Every decision he’d made for the last thirty years had something to do with Anakin.

“Anakin is--” he began.

“I know.” Ahsoka whispered.

Obi-Wan’s eyes shot from the floor back to her face.

“I...encountered him recently.”

“Ahsoka,” he shook his head. “That’s not possible. You didn’t...you couldn’t...no. _No._ Anakin is dead.”

Ahsoka frowned. “He’s not. I fought him.”

“You _fought him?_ ”

“It’s another...long story.”

“Ahsoka.”

“I was in a Sith Temple, _another long story,_ ” she rolled her eyes at Obi-Wan’s obvious horror, “Maul was there, too.”

Was the girl trying to _kill him?_

“Maul?” he croaked.

She smirked, finding too much joy in Obi-Wan’s discomfort. “If you recall, it’s not the first time I’ve faced off against him. Pretty soon I’ll be competing with the likes of you for his favourite opponent.”

“That’s not funny.” 

Besides, Maul was dead. _Actually_ dead this time. But, that fact didn’t seem important now.

“Anyway, a lot happened at the Temple and...Anakin showed up.”

Obi-Wan shook his head again, leaning against the wall behind him. “He’s dead, Ahsoka. I watched him die.”

Ahsoka didn’t argue this time, choosing to study him in silence. 

“He’s dead,” Obi-Wan repeated, more to himself than to her.

But how could he be dead when he was _everywhere._

This had been Anakin’s home before he had met Obi-Wan. Because Obi-Wan had spent so little time with Anakin on this planet, he had only his imagination as a weapon against himself, endlessly creating scenarios and routines and images for a young Anakin Skywalker.

Obi-Wan saw him running down the street, headed home to his mother after an exhausting day with Watto. He was sitting on the roof of the Lilina Motel, watching the suns set. Sometimes, Obi-Wan could even hear his laugh bounce around in the cave he had made his workshop, making fun of Obi-Wan for not knowing which wires went where on the old vaporator he found in the canyon.

“You’re choosing to believe that, Obi-Wan. I understand why,” Ahsoka spoke gently, not unlike the way he had spoken to her on so many occasions long ago. “But Anakin is _alive_. He’s a Sith Lord.” Her voice strained on the last part.

“I _watched him die,_ ” he repeated.

Ahsoka watched him with a sad smile and suddenly he felt like the Padawan.

“All those years ago, when I left the Order and I would call you, only you...it’s because I knew I wasn’t strong enough to talk to him,” said Ahsoka, quietly. “I knew that if he asked me to come back, I’d be powerless to say no. When he followed me out of the Temple that day, he tried to stop me from leaving and...and he almost succeeded.

“I would’ve come back to the Order if he’d asked, so I...I never gave him the opportunity. He got pretty creative in his efforts to try and contact me during those months after I left,” she explained, an emotion almost akin to fondness playing across her face. “One time, he even tracked me down and _physically showed up_ at a motel I was staying in. I slipped out the back before he ever saw me but seeing him there _in person_ and knowing he was there _for me..._ it was too much.”

Obi-Wan remembered that. Never had he struggled so much to refrain from telling Anakin about his contact with Ahsoka than during that particular attempt of Anakin’s to find her. He spent _hours_ meditating while Anakin was gone, trying to rid himself of the guilt and sorrow he felt for his former Padawan.

“If he would’ve asked, I would’ve come back in a heartbeat, whether it was the right thing to do or not. I knew that then, which is why...why I never talked to him.” She took a breath. “And then I saw him. I saw both of you and it was...it was like entering a time capsule. I’d told myself everyday that I couldn’t go back to the Order, I couldn’t go back to the two of you.

“But when I saw the two of you again...as soon as I got off that ship and was greeted by Artoo, I knew I was wrong,” she paused, gathering herself. “I thought I needed to leave the Order to find myself, but what I found is that...everything always pointed back to the two of you. _Everything._ The lessons I learned and wisdom I gained...it all came back to you and Anakin.

“On the way to Mandalore, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You two are my home, my family. I couldn’t wait for everything to be finished, so we could move past all of it and start again.”

“You were ready to come back to the Order,” breathed Obi-Wan, mourning all the what-ifs that had been lost.

“I don’t know. Maybe,” she answered. “But I was ready to come back to the two of you, whatever that looked like. My place has always been at your sides.”

Obi-Wan was emotionally _exhausted,_ but he still found tears to lend to this admission.

He’d spent _so many years_ searching his own feelings and wondering if it was right to feel such affection and attachment to his Padawan and Grand Padawan. Then, everything fell apart and the thing he regretted the _most_ was never allowing himself to be honest with his own emotions.

He no longer had the ability nor _desire_ to ignore the longing he felt to be with the people he loved.

“Obi-Wan,” she still had more to say. “On Malachor, in that Temple...it _was_ him.”

He shut his eyes against this truth.

“I thought he was dead. I mourned him like he was dead for so long, but...I think a part of me always knew,” her voice sounded strong, but he _knew her_. She felt anything but. “And I think you know it, too.”

Obi-Wan gave the smallest shake of his head. 

“He said my name. _Anakin did_ , not Vader.” Ahsoka took a deep breath. “He’s still in there. He’s consumed by the darkness, but not completely. I believe that.”

 _There’s still good in him_.

It was something that had played in Obi-Wan’s mind every single day for the past eighteen years. Padmé had believed it, even though Obi-Wan had watched him try to _kill_ her.

And now Ahsoka, another woman whom Anakin had loved and betrayed, could somehow find it in her heart to say the same thing.

“I can’t live like that, little one,” he said, though she wasn’t so little anymore. In fact, she appeared to be _taller_ than him. “Anakin Skywalker is gone.”

“That’s what he said, too,” she replied sadly.

“We can’t dwell on the past, Ahsoka. It’s our duty to press on and create a more hopeful future.”

“That’s what I’m _doing_ , Obi-Wan,” she said, a bit of bite to her words. “But just because we can’t save him doesn't mean he's not saveable.”

She’d always been such an optimist.

“I believe there is someone in the galaxy who will redeem him. I don’t know who or how, but I believe it with all my heart, Obi-Wan. Anakin is alive and he will overcome the darkness.”

The Force physically _pushed_ Obi-Wan, causing him to almost stumble. 

It wasn’t the first time. As Luke grew, in age and in strength with the Force, he often considered the boy’s part in all of it. _The Chosen One,_ he’d told Maul on that desert night months ago.

But he’d been wrong about the prophecy before.

“I hope you’re right.”

“I wish I was with you.”

“No, you don’t,” he chuckled lightly. “I eat a lot of womp rat.”

She snorted. “Disgusting.” And then, “You look terrible.”

“I always thought you were a main contributor to my grey, but it seems like it was inevitable afterall.”

“You look _old_.”

He grinned. “You said that twenty years ago, too.”

“ _Twenty years_. Gods, is that right?”

“Just about. The Republic fell eighteen years ago next week.”

Ahsoka shook her head incredulously.

“Do you miss it?” he asked.

She didn’t hesitate. “I miss everything.”

Obi-Wan nodded, before an idea twisted in his mind. “Ahsoka?” he asked, careful to keep his voice light.

“Hm?”

“I know I told you not to tell me too much about what you spend your time doing and who you spend it with, but...you mentioned Bail.”

“Yes?”

“Is he...is he alright?”

“That’s not the word I’d use. He’s tired of the Empire, like all of us, and he deals with it more directly than most.”

“So he’s still serving.”

She nodded. “I don’t know how, honestly. He’s been under scrutiny and suspicion for so long. I’m pretty sure the Emperor is just taking an ‘enemies-closer’ approach, if you’re asking me.”

The _Emperor._ Obi-Wan’s stomach twisted as he thought of the grooming he’d let happen to his Padawan before his own eyes for so many years. He should have voiced his concerns so much earlier than he did.

But would anything have changed?

These were the thoughts that kept Obi-Wan company on Tatooine.

“He has a daughter now,” added Ahsoka with a fond smile.

Obi-Wan kept his face expressionless. “Oh?”

“She’s really something. You’d like her. _Always_ getting into trouble, from what Bail says.”

It was a punch to the gut. Somehow, he’d disillusioned himself into thinking they wouldn’t inherit any of Anakin’s qualities, having never known him. But as he watched Luke study to apply to be a pilot at the academy and modify various droids day-in and day-out from a distance, he’d been proven wrong time and time again.

“It’s probably best that you don’t tell me anything else about her. Just to be careful.” Obi-Wan nodded with a grateful smile. He wondered if Ahsoka could tell he only said it for his own benefit, not Leia’s.

“I have new lightsabers,” said Ahsoka, unclipping two blades from her sides and igniting them.

His eyebrows rose. “White?”

“Needed a new challenge,” she shrugged.

Obi-Wan laughed. “Of course.”

She clipped the sabers back to her waist and looked at him a bit awkwardly.

“I have so much I want to say and ask, but I think...I think I’m having a hard time remembering this is real. I just can’t believe you’re alive, Master.”

_Master._

“I can’t believe you’re so kriffing _tall_.”

She laughed. “I always told you I’d catch up. And the two of you _never_ believed me.”

He was impressed by her ability to speak so casually about Anakin as if he were nothing more than a fond memory, not a source of trauma. Once again, he was floored by her maturity and strength.

He wondered if Anakin had noticed how much she had grown or how long her lek were or how her facial markings had spaced out as her face had lengthened.

Did his breath catch when she had walked in, proving herself _alive_ , or had Anakin known all along?

“I can’t tell you what this means to me,” Obi-Wan smiled, warmly, feeling every bit the old man he was.

“I know that you don’t like all the mushy gushy stuff, but I have to confess that I had one main mission in this call.”

“What’s that?”

“With everything that’s happened...everything that’s _happening_. The clones, the Empire, Anakin. I’m trying to be more honest with my feelings.”

Obi-Wan’s smile spread at her words. He’d been incapable of teaching her this lesson so long ago, having not mastered it himself, but it turned out she was more than competent enough to learn this lesson on her own.

“I love you, Obi-Wan,” she said after a moment of hesitation. “I don’t think I ever really knew what that meant before, but--”

He held up a hand, stopping her. Only one person in his entire life had _ever_ said those words to him. His parents could perhaps be added to the list, but he’d been taken to the Temple so young, he couldn’t recall. Other than that, it had only been Satine.

Satine, who’d only been able to tell him in her dying moments, desperate for him to hear the words he’d never been ready to hear in her life.

Obi-Wan himself had only been able to say them, no, _scream them_ , when the object of his affection lay burning, dying, _hating_. 

Love was not something Obi-Wan was familiar with, not in the outright sense.

Ahsoka would never be able to understand what it meant for him to hear these words from her. Words said, not because of death, but in spite of it. She had more life to live, yet she had still chosen to let him in.

“Obi-Wan?” she asked, concern evident in her tone. “I’m sorry, I know that’s probably uncomfortable for you to hear, but I need you to know. I left too many things unsaid before and I...I promised myself I wouldn’t let myself be afraid of my own feelings.

“Anakin was a brother to me in every way and I wish I would have told him before...everything...,” she trailed off with a heavy sigh before looking back up, her blue eyes meeting Obi-Wan’s gaze with electric intensity. “But you, Obi-Wan...I can’t begin to explain what you mean to me. When the Council reassigned me to train under Anakin, I thought that I’d never get to know you, that you wouldn’t care about me.

“But you went out of your way to support me, instruct me, show me not just what it means to be a good Jedi, but what it means to be _good_. I love helping people because of _you_. And--”

“I love you, too.”

She blinked, her eyes widening. “You...do?”

He smiled fully. “I’ve loved you always. I always will.”

The words had been said to him long ago, in what seemed like another life. And he meant them in an entirely different way than Satine had intended them to him then, of course. 

Once upon a time, he may have considered the possibility of a family of his own. But Ahsoka was as close to a child as he now knew he would ever have on this side of the Force and he couldn’t be more content with that acceptance.

It seemed right that he pass on the benediction he had received from his One Great Love to his One Little Love.

And because they had _hours_ , they talked. And talked and talked.

Until he was hoarse because he rarely used his voice at all these days and water was not as abundant on Tatooine as it had always been on Coruscant. They both adjusted their projectors so they could sit more comfortably on the floors of their respective rooms. 

If Obi-Wan suspended his imagination just a little, he could almost see the deep orange of her skin and the dark purple she had always painted her nails. The flickering of the abandoned projector didn’t seem so obvious anymore and he found himself scooting closer, tangibly _feeling_ her presence in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

They exchanged stories about adventures involving anonymous people and dreamed together of a future where they didn’t have to live in the shadows. But mostly they just remembered. Times where the two of them had taken on the world, but also where the _three_ of them had taken on the world. 

Because Ahsoka had been right. 

Her place had never just been with Obi-Wan, it had been with the _both of them_. Each of them flanking her on a different side, supporting, encouraging, challenging, and _learning_ from her. 

Though he hardly considered himself an optimistic man these days, it was difficult not to let himself be pulled into her hurricane of hope. The three of them would never be together again in the way Obi-Wan so desperately desired, but perhaps she was right.

Perhaps he would return and for a moment, just a _moment_ , they could be as they were: family. From wherever the galaxy displaced them and whichever side of the Force they individually found themselves on when that day arrived.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! also, interested in your feedback: what are your thoughts (rebels fans) on Obi's claim to Maul that Luke is the chosen one? just curious.
> 
> xoxo
> 
> tumblr: giggles-and-freckles


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